


Snared

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery
Genre: Bad Ending, Female Protagonist, Female Rowan Khanna, Other, Tentacle Rape, and i wrote this waiting for my energy to replenish, in a way the fact that this fic exists is a DIRECT RESULT of that bullshit energy system, so like, trying not to think too hard about their canon ages i just like tentacles, you can thank jam city not me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 09:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14446299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/





	Snared

“We have to get out of here!” Rowan cries. She turns and bangs her fists against the door. “Help! Help, we’re trapped in here with Devil’s Snare!”

You’ve got this. You’ve got your wand, and the plant is weak to light. You struggle against the vine holding your leg, flick your wand, and call out, “Lumos!”

The vine hesitates, but it does retreat.

“Good—eek!” Rowan shrieks as one of the vines encircles her ankle. “G-good work, keep it up!”

Even if she’s not as good at Lumos as you, you still wish she would put in a little effort here. But then you realize that one of the Snare’s vines has snatched away her wand, and you feel like kicking yourself for thinking that. Not that you _can_ kick yourself, since another vine is wrapping itself around your ankle.

“Eek!” You kick at it a few times and cast another Lumos, and it retreats.

There has to be some way out of this. You’re already starting to feel winded, and the Devil’s Snare still looks to have plenty of energy left in it. Panting for breath, you try and move over to stand by Rowan’s side—there’s safety in numbers, after all—but before you can take more than two steps, there’s a vine wrapping itself around your neck.

You try to gasp, but you can’t draw breath. You swish your wand, but you can’t make your throat form the sounds you need to cast the spell. Your vision starts to tunnel—

—and then the vine loosens ever so slightly and you can breathe. You suck in as much air as you can. As your vision returns, you can see that another vine has wrapped itself completely around Rowan, pinning her arms to her sides.

Her gaze locks on yours. You weren’t panicking before, but the terror in her eyes turns your blood to ice.

You struggle against the vine, and it tightens around your neck again. Non-vocal magic is a thing that you know is possible, Jacob had mentioned it before, but no matter how you swish your wand and wish for it to light up, nothing happens. Tears well up and trickle from your eyes.

_I’m going to die here_ , you realize.

Rowan cries your name. She struggles against the vines holding her, but they don’t choke her—likely because she’s no threat. Wait, does that mean the Devil’s Snare is _sentient_? It knows you can cast Lumos and she can’t! Your eyes fly open with the realization.

Hers do too, or at least, you presume that’s what she’s just realized. But when she opens her mouth again to say so, a vine shoves its way past her lips, gagging her. She lets out a muffled shriek and redoubles her attempts to struggle.

All you can do is watch; you’re on the verge of passing out. But just before you can, the vine loosens once again. You can breathe.

“Why—” you gag out. No time to wonder; you swish your wand again and open your mouth—and you find one of the Snare’s vines forcing its way in, all the way to your throat, while at the same time another vine curls around your wrist and twists _hard_. You shout as well as you can and your hand opens up automatically from the pain.

There goes your wand, down into the midst of the vines.

You’re definitely going to die, now.

Rowan’s cheeks are stained with tears. She squeezes her eyes shut and… just gives up. Her body goes limp in the Snare’s embrace.

She makes it look so easy.

Just as you’re contemplating doing the same, more vines wrap around your limbs. One snakes up your leg, under your skirt, and— _what in Merlin’s name?_ —what is it _doing?!_ It’s rubbing against the outside of your panties!

You renew your struggles. Something’s come over you, overwhelming panic. This thing’s not about to kill you. It’s going to do something far, far worse.

Rowan lets out a muffled shriek and your eyes glance down to see that a vine has wormed its way under her uniform shirt. It tears through the fabric to reveal her two budding breasts, the very tip of the vine encircles one nipple teasingly.

You aren’t being actively choked, but you can’t breathe anyway.

The vines surrounding you rip at your skirt and then your panties. You try to hold your thighs together, but there’s no resisting as your legs are pried apart. Rowan clenches her eyes shut and turns her head away as much as she can.

Your cheeks burn. Both your and her most private parts are on display, and she has the decency to look away, but you _can’t_. You can’t pry your eyes away as the Snare tweaks and teases Rowan’s nipples to attention.

You shouldn’t be seeing this.

You especially shouldn’t be getting wet because of this.

But you are, and because of that, the Devil’s Snare has an easier time than it should working one of its vines inside of you.

Despite the vine filling your mouth, the shriek you let out is still plenty loud. Anyone could hear it and—

_No. No no no, please no—_

If anybody walked in on this, you think you would die for real.

Rowan gasps and squirms. The vines tear off her skirt and snake their way under her already-damp panties. You can’t _see_ what they’re doing there, but you know anyway. They pump in and out of both your cavities in a synchronous rhythm.

Rowan’s eyes flutter open. Her cheeks are already flushed, and then she catches you looking at her and her blush deepens. She lets out a muffled sound that, from the cadence and number of syllables, you know is meant to be your name.

Finally you’re able to squeeze your eyes shut. But the damage is done.

Worse, with your eyes closed your other senses seem strengthened. You can feel every drag of the vines against your skin, as they slither up under your shirt to play with your breasts, as a second one pushes its way into your pussy—you suck in as much air as you can through your nose—as a third one tickles at your rear and _no, god no, anything but that, please please please_ and you are going to _kill_ Merula Snyde.

The vine tries to push into your arsehole, but finds the resistance too daunting. The vine gagging you pulls out of your mouth and you let out a sigh of relief, but it’s fleeting; made slick by your saliva, it’s able to succeed where its ally was not.

Your scream pierces through the room as your arse is filled by the Snare.

Rowan gasps. She calls your name—her mouth is free too? You don’t want to open your eyes—and then she screams too, and you know exactly what’s happened to her.

“No,” you sob. “Stop it, please—stop—”

The Devil’s Snare really must be sentient. It deploys another vine to gag you again. Your mouth is filled upand you’re silenced once more.

The vines inside of you, inside all three of your holes, pulse inward and outward roughly in rhythm. And it feels… it doesn’t feel bad. It shouldn’t feel this way, losing your virginity to a plant monster in a dark room down some obscure corridor at Hogwarts. The sensation inside your rear is painful, but something about how the pain resonates with the pleasure in your cunt—you don’t entirely dislike it.

Rowan is moaning softly. A shiver runs down your spine.

It almost feels like your body is being drawn along some path. Like you’re adrift in a raging river, unable to resist the pull of the current. There’s a waterfall downstream and no matter how hard you swim in the opposite direction, there’s no escaping it.

“Mm-mm—” You shake your head as best you can and try to plead with the Snare. _Don’t do this, don’t make me—_

But your desperation only seems to fuel it onward. A vine wraps around your waist and its tip dips down, finding a spot just above your pussy that you didn’t realize was there, and _oh god—_

You’re hurtling over the edge of the waterfall. You can’t stop yourself from moaning with pleasure.

Shortly thereafter, Rowan’s moans pick up in intensity. She gasps more and more frequently. You shouldn’t, but you open your eyes just in time to see her face twist with pleasure as she reaches her own climax.

Whatever energy the two of you may have had to fight back has been completely forced out of you. The Devil’s Snare continues to hold on to and enjoy your bodies, and the only thing you can do is sob, and shudder, and hope for a miracle.


End file.
